Hardships Unnumbered
"And the prince and princess lived happily ever after!"
Sarah's heart skipped. Faltered.
(Oh no. No, no -)
But she managed to step forward mechanically, willing back the tears she felt suddenly brimming in her eyes. The prince raised her hand in triumph, the crowd cheering as applause rang out. She was trying to hold her smile, but it slumped into a pained grimace, wilting; the prince's grip was the only thing keeping her upright -
(Come on, come on, please -)
The blinding lights went out and the curtain fell.
"You ok, Sarah?"
The reassuring laugh she'd intended came out as a wheeze, and she turned to go, breath hitching in her lurching chest. She made it to the wings, leaning against the wall as the room began to spin in horrible familiarity.
"Yeah -" She choked out, voice stretched to an exaggerated positive. (The play's ended but - just - just keep acting - come on -) "I just… I swear that lighting cue gets… Longer and longer every night!" She finished breathlessly.
Royals and peasants crowded about, exiting the stage, laughing, bubbling, (breathing normally -)
"Sarah? Come on. We're doing a cast party!" Knights and jesters drifted past her, laughing.
"Yeah, sure - I just have a little - little adrenaline rush - give me a sec." Sarah massaged her heart. Her squeezing, sputtering heart -
(No, no, it's not sputtering, it's not doing that - please please please - come on - not now - you're just panicking, your heart's fine, come on brain, come on it's ok snap out of it -)
She gazed, unseeing, at the blurry floor.
(Come on - come on -)
(- I'm dying help me. I'm dying. Help me. Someone please - please - help me -)
(No, stop it, it's fine, you're fine -)
(- I can't breathe I can't breathe help me, help me, anyone -)
(No, no, shut up, shut up, I just need to concentrate - friday, come on - you're gonna make it to friday - concentrate, Williams -)
… But she couldn't. Statistics and facts of heart attacks and asphyxiation were the only things she could think about, the only things to think about. Sarah stumbled further into the wings, away from people, sinking to the ground and curling into the curtains, shaking. It wasn't necessarily being onstage that made her do this, it wasn't the audience or stage fright… Tonight it had just been the line… The stupid, stupid line that she'd heard over and over again for at least a month now... But for some reason, tonight, it seemed brand new… Prince and Princess… Happily ever after… In the black thick fabric, Sarah wheezed, massaging her heart, struggling to breathe, and wished it would all stop.
Later, at home, she laid in bed and stared at the ceiling, drained. But not completely; she had enough energy for insomnia and crying, apparently, the tears leaking from the corners of her exhausted eyes.
(Prince and Princess lived… Lived… Didn't think that was the phrase that would get me tonight. But it's always fun wondering when the next time I get to do my impression of a deflating water balloon is.)
Crying in the dead of night wasn't ideal, but at least it meant she was breathing. She suppressed her sobs, managing to shake only slightly as her stomach growled and churned.
(Let's see… Face the ceiling, and feel my ribs poke out, or turn over and feel them poke in the mattress?)
She turned to the side, her bony knees resting uncomfortably on top of each other.
(Oh, perfect. The third option, I'd forgotten sideways was uncomfortable too. Remember sleeping at night? Remember when I used to do that? Good times.)
Actually… It was getting hard to remember. It was going on… A year? More? She didn't want to think about that.
(Let's think about… Let's… Let's look at the box.)
Sarah willed herself upright. She slunk off the bed to the ground in a huddle, reaching into the darkness underneath, pulling the box out. The cardboard was warped slightly on the sides, curving out from where her hands had grabbed it night after night. She removed the contents carefully, holding them all up, inspecting each one in the darkness as best she could, going through the list.
Crystals. Feathers. Bottlecaps. Candy. Snowglobe. Glitter, if that'll help - oh!
Her bag. She'd forgotten, but earlier she'd found a few smooth rocks walking on campus, and they were hastily added to the pile. Rocks, and shells, foreign coins, strange twigs, some pressed flowers, a yoyo, more feathers, her fingers feeling the familiar shapes before the dim light caught them, mentally checking off each item, pulling them out and lining them up. She sighed as she reached the bottom - usually this… Well, the box didn't calm her, but it gave her a plan. The feeling of a plan. It helped - focus her. But tonight it was simply adding to her mental state, her mind screaming to recount and start over, to double, triple-check, every item to make absolutely sure -
Sarah sighed again, going backwards through the list as she replaced everything in the box, pushing it away before crawling into bed, her mind still racing, her body aching and dull.
(Those rocks were good. And on friday. Friday. I'll probably have a few more things to add. Like the eggs, the salt, the bowl -)
(The bowl! Did I check the bowl!?)
She bolted up. She'd been so out of it coming home after that disaster of a run -
(How could you forget. How. How. How. Please - maybe - this time -)
Heart was beating too fast again, threatening to skip, adrenaline flooding her. She threw herself out of bed, going downstairs as fast and silently as possible. Outside, the rain poured down.
(Rain - just like the first time you - no, no, don't jinx it -)
She didn't stop for shoes as she ran outside, looking - looking - there -
The dog bowl under the porch. It was filled with food; it was always full now. Her tears joined the raindrops as she picked it up, throwing the remains into the bushes, slowly taking it back inside. Karen had left dinner wrapped up in the fridge, and Sarah began to fill the bowl mechanically. Not that she could eat it. She tried not to gag as she dumped the food in, tried not to think about the steak -
(Smells like grease. Grease and death and dirt, dull and grey and -)
The rice -
(Sticky, clinging to my fingers, slimy, rotting and cloying and - I can't believe I used to love rice -)
Or the single squishy broccoli, which finally forced her to gag. Sarah gripped the edge of the counter; there was nothing to throw up, nothing but bile and then eventually blood, but the nausea rippled through her. A few tense moments, and then her stomach growled pitifully.
"Trust me, you couldn't handle this right now even if I could eat."
She went back outside, replacing the now-full bowl, then dragged herself slowly upstairs, the coo-coo clock in the hall ticking silently, a quarter to 4. She was soaked and freezing from the rain; she should shower. Sarah groaned at the thought, but forced herself to get in, the water's heat steaming against the glass and her skin, but shivering in spite of it. She showered slowly. She did everything slowly now; exhaustion was her only energy level. She finally finished, still cold, pulling on her shirt, pausing as she caught sight of herself in her mirror. Even in the shadows of the dark, what was visible of her body scared her. Skin dry, pale and patchy, and her hair hung, no longer curly, not even wavy. Now it was just limp, clinging to her head, and all of it brittle. Her body was covered in bruises, ranging from yellow to a dark purple. A lack of iron, as well as copious other vitamins she should be taking, but didn't.
Couldn't.
Worst of all was… Her. Skeletal and tiny. Knees protruding at angles, wrists impossibly tiny for her hands, which hung limply, like oversized catcher's mitts. Jutting collar bones only demonstrated the shortness of breath as her chest hitched up and down. Her face looked haunted -
- it is -
- dark circles above sunken cheeks and a smile that was too tight.
I'm dying.
The thought was too common. It wasn't intrusive; it was simply always present, waiting, at the back of her mind. It was the last thing when she fell asleep, it was the first when she woke. People whispered it when she walked, Karen and Toby and her father could all see her fading away -
(No they don't. No you're not. No - no - no -)
- but she was. She felt it in her cold bones. The draining energy, her desperation, her appetite, the absence to feel any kind of emotion beyond fear and anxiety as she clawed at a sign, anything, anything that would -
(Don't do this. And it's not a good idea to look at yourself in bad lighting. Or lack thereof.)
"Because regular light doesn't show any of this at all, does it?" Sarah muttered, climbing into bed.
It was the mirror.
(I used to look amazing in that mirror… Now it just reminds me of… Of them.)
(No, don't… Don't think about that…)
(I'm dying… Help me… I need you…)
She sank into a dream of pacing a dark and dusty pit, forgotten and alone…
It had started a few years ago. Sarah had had friends. Sarah had had magic.
Since she'd beaten the Labyrinth, things were… Different. No, that wasn't the right word - changed. She was changed. She was mature, caring, and she was more… Aware. Of herself, of the world - and the world beyond the world. She'd seen Ludo, Hoggle, Didymus and others constantly. They followed her at school, at home, they tried to help with homework (some of the goblins had eaten it on a few occasions as well, but they tried). They sang her songs to sleep, they woke her in the morning, they protected and guarded Toby (though she usually checked in on them while they did - she'd once caught the stupider goblins trying to teach him to say the word "wish"). Sarah was never late, never got wet when it rained, never got sick… They were her friends. Sir Didymus would "escort" her to school in full armor, Hoggle would help her cook or garden, Ludo and the rest helped with chores - and Sarah was… Happy.
And, of course, wordlessly… He was always close. Always near. Not lurking, just… Present, somehow. She'd see something in the corner of her eye, find a blonde hair floating around the room, glitter on one of her books, she hear his laugh in her ear, or smell something - something like rain and old books and - electricity - and then it would be gone. When questioned, the goblins would swear it was them, but Sarah knew. Sometimes she'd see his face in the crowd for just a second, or a certain song would repeat on the radio in a row. And every so often at night, she'd hear the screech of an owl outside her window. They never spoke. He didn't terrify her, but she was still… Apprehensive. And very careful of saying the word 'wish'. But he was... Intriguing, despite her best efforts to push the thought aside. A mystery - a dangerous mystery - but one that she still wanted to solve.
And her dreams… She hadn't had a nightmare since she'd gotten Toby back, and while she never remembered the details of them, she always woke feeling... Happy. Sometimes, in a quiet moment at school, or when she wasn't thinking, a memory from one would blossom up suddenly - flashes of color, a faint melody - a feeling of being weightless, floating - and then it was gone.
And then there was the mirror - it had shown up on her birthday some years ago. Simply appeared, and neither Karen nor her father questioned it. Toby knew something was off, but he simply stared at it for a moment before going back to his room to play, leaving Sarah to gape at it in shock. It was huge. Silver and ornate, its frame containing tiny intricate flowers, leaves, roots, branches and other plants. At the top, perching on top of an acorn, wings outstretched, was an owl, of course. Hoggle had explained it made a better portal for them than her desk mirror, but Sarah had known it was a lot of care and… Thought, perhaps, that had been put into it to simply be "just" a magic doorway. She always looked amazing in that mirror. Well, once she'd dyed her hair pink and her reflection had gone all blotchy and then she'd woken up the next morning with the goblins trying to eat it, calling her "Candy Floss lady" and she'd promptly dyed it back that afternoon. But that was one time. Until…
Until last year. Until something happened. Sarah didn't know what. It was almost another birthday, she'd been sleeping and then…
She was suddenly awake in the dark, the coo-coo clock ringing out downstairs, and the noise filled the house and her mind. She'd stared at her ceiling, and felt very cold, and then very wrong. The mirror was dull. No goblins responded to her call, nor Ludo, nor Hoggle, nor Didymus. Toby had woken up crying, and Sarah had told him not to panic, that it would be fine, but it wasn't fine. It was empty, it was hollow, and there was simply… Nothing. Flat mirror, no messages, clues left behind, no matter how hard she wished. And then prayed. And then, eventually, began to beg. She'd even left her window open one night, hoping to hear an owl, but she'd awoken cold and still alone, with Karen yelling at her about the heater and thermometer prices during winter.
Then, Sarah started to get sick. Really sick. At first, it was just her energy and then her sudden insomnia, but she blamed that on… On them leaving. Which, understandably, made her sad. And angry. And then just… Flat. Nothing. Sarah was simply… Floating through her life, waiting. For an answer, a response, something, anything. And when more time passed, and still there were no answers, she got worse. Suddenly she… Couldn't seem to stomach food. Karen thought it was an allergy, but now - Sarah had heard her discussing it once privately - she thought it was an eating disorder, or possibly a nervous breakdown. Sarah thought it was closer to the latter. It wasn't that she wasn't hungry, she was - desperately - but her appetite was just… Gone. Any food that she did force down instantly made her nauseous and dizzy. She could drink juices, some tea or coffee, some soups - and - occasionally - fruit (never peaches) - but anything beyond that she threw up, violently. And still she floated, waiting. Waiting and wasting and wishing.
Had she done something wrong? Wished them away in her sleep or subconsciously? Had... He… Decided they no longer needed to be involved in her life? Were they in trouble? Did they need help? Or - and this was the thought Sarah liked least, and so she thought it the most - had he... Gotten tired of her?
So, without any answers or options or sleep, Sarah had begun to read. She'd begun to research. She'd always been pretty familiar with fairy tales even before the Labyrinth, but now she studied religiously for something, anything that could help her bring them back, fix whatever was wrong, reverse the curse, or - or whatever had happened. She read and read - fairy tales, folk lore, myths, legends from around the world, everything from her childhood, Wizard of Oz, Grimm's, The Five Children and It, any book she could, any story she found. She'd also started collecting - constantly looking for things, things a goblin (or perhaps… An owl) might like, shiny glittery jewelry, plastic beads, rocks and pennies on the ground, bits of tin foil, Toby's baby teeth, things that caught her eye, that were mentioned in books and might help, Sarah collected and saved. It was an obsession, but she used it as a distraction. She walked to school in the rain, in the snow, in the wind, hunting with her eyes for anything that she could use to - to attract, to call, to summon, even. Collected, gathered, read, collected, gathered, read, again and again until it wasn't a habit, it was her life. She read and she studied and she threw herself into acting roles - any role - but mostly she committed to the role of Sarah - smiling and happy and not paranoid. Sarah, who didn't flinch at the word "wish", who didn't jump at small noises or shadows, who didn't race to the door when it rang, who didn't cry herself to sleep because -
Because she was alone, and she could feel herself slipping away, piece by piece, inch by inch. Because she didn't get to say goodbye. She didn't know how to help her friends, or herself, or how to get back to something that shouldn't have technically existed in the first place. Her dreams became running, endlessly, throughout constantly changing passages, and no matter how fast or smart she was, she was always shut out. And alone.
She'd been doing well - ok, not well, but she'd been - holding it together, as best she could - until one day - Sir Didymus appeared. But - and Sarah had burst out crying on that day - he wasn't right. It was him but - he was a dog. A very fox-like dog, a terrier, one that stood oddly still, watching her, but a silent dog nonetheless. She'd tried everything to talk to him. Nothing worked. He simply appeared, ate, and stared at her until he'd leave. Then, on another day, he disappeared completely. And Sarah couldn't keep up the act anymore. She stopped trying. She couldn't breathe right, she developed tics and was constantly anxious. Panic attacks weren't frequent, they were regular. Her heartbeat was always in her ears, she could barely focus, she cried -
And she didn't know how long she could survive like this.